


holding out for a hero

by cryptidsoap



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Crushes, Developing Relationship, Fictober, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, crime-fighting, minghao has powers, pls check beginning notes for warnings, superhero minghao in a motorcycle is a big yes for me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 00:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16398257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptidsoap/pseuds/cryptidsoap
Summary: the life of xu minghao, a superhero, and how he balances fighting crime by night and swooning over a cute cashier by day.





	holding out for a hero

**Author's Note:**

> first of all this is super late. i gave up following the fictober schedule im just posting whenever i can and taking my time pls bear with me
> 
> second of all MY LONGEST ONESHOT EVERRRR honestly idek how the fuck this reached 7k. i was scared it wouldnt pass 2k so yeah 
> 
> third of all and most importantly: there are no major depictions of violence, just some PG punches, HOWEVER, a character gets stabbed around the middle of the fic and theres a brief, light description of the situation. its nothing too graphic, but if you're uncomfortable, heads up!! 
> 
> w/o further ado, enjoy~

Xu Minghao is made of clay.

 

Actually, his friends prefer to say he’s made of rubber.

 

In fact, by the way his little cousins like to ask him to stretch his arms to touch the ceiling then proceed to play with his moldable limbs, Minghao can state he’s actually made of Play-Doh.

 

Jokes aside, Minghao has a superpower. He can stretch, shrink, and shape his body to his liking. That proves itself to be useful when, for example, Minghao wants to grab a snack on the kitchen but is too tired to get up from the living room couch. With just a stretch of his arm, he can reach for a bag of chips on his cupboard.

 

That superpower is also what enables him to roam the city in a purple hood and a motorcycle, searching for crimes to stop and people to save. Yes, Xu Minghao is a superhero. The newspapers call him Elastic-Man, which is  _ ridiculous _ , when his superhero name is clearly The Shifter.

 

He doesn't work alone all the time. Minghao is pretty sure he's the only person with superpowers in the city that actually uses them to fight crime, but he's often joined on his roams by a guy dressed in all black, mask covering his face and a hood over his head.

 

He saw him for the first time when he was chasing a car driven by two guys that had just stolen a bank. He was speeding through the streets on his bike, when someone suddenly jumped on the backseat, making him hit the brakes abruptly.

 

“What the fuck?” he asked, turning to the person.

 

“Hey, calm down, I'm here to help.” the other said, in a deep voice that couldn't  _ not _ be modulated

 

“You just jumped on my bike.” Minghao stated. “By the way, how did you do it?”

 

“I calculated the jump. But I don't think you want to hear about the amount of physics it took for me to do it.”

 

“Snarky. Now, get out of my bike.”

 

“I just said I'm trying to help! Look, there are three guys on that car, if you go alone you'll be at disadvantage.”

 

“There are two guys on that car.”

 

“I was watching from a high position, there’s another one hunched by the backseats, hidden..”

 

Minghao sighed. “How do I know I can trust you?”

 

“You don’t. But I’m really here to help.” 

 

“Do you have a name?”

 

“You can call me Nightingale.”

 

“Okay. If you try anything against me, I can have you flat on your back in two seconds.” Minghao warned.

 

“Oh, so can I.” he could hear the smirk in Nightingale’s voice. “Don’t worry, I’m one of the good guys. Now, drive before we lose them.”

 

“Stop bossing me around.”

 

After that, meeting with Nightingale became a common occurrence. Minghao discovered he didn’t have any superpowers, but was incredibly smart and very skilled with knives and in hand-in-hand combat, despite his skinny build. They weren’t partners per se; just happened to help each other sometimes.

 

That is Minghao’s life as a superhero. Aside from that, though, he is a loser.

 

He’s a loser that eats breakfast on a questionable yet cheap diner everyday before going to college. The food is not spectacular, but it tastes nicely enough, the coffee is good, and the overall isn’t as expensive as it would be for him to actually buy ingredients to make breakfast everyday. Seeing as Minghao can’t cook, it’s better to eat at the diner than have industrialized cookies for breakfast.

 

The main reason why he keeps coming back, though, and the reason he’s a loser, is the raven-haired cashier, or, as his nametag says, Jeon Wonwoo. Wonwoo is tall, well-mannered, rosy-lipped, wears round glasses and smiles with his mouth closed. And he's been the reason of Minghao's stuttering and blushing for the past months.

 

He didn't mean to develop a crush on Wonwoo; he was doing perfectly fine by balancing just studying, selling his drawing and being a superhero. He really didn't need romantic feelings for someone who would never like him back added to that equation. Yet, there he is, swooning over the boy from afar as he watched his elegant fingers adjust his thin glasses on his nose.

 

It’s a Monday, and Minghao is sitting on a stool by the diner’s counter, munching on a toasted ham and cheese sandwich while thinking about how his legs ache from chasing a burglar last night. Wonwoo approaches him from the other side of the counter, placing a cup of plain black coffee in front of him.

 

“Good morning, Minghao.” he says, in a gentle voice. “Here’s your dose of energy to get through the day.”

 

“Thanks, a-and good morning to you too.” Minghao half-smiles, nervous, already feeling his cheeks grow warm.

 

“Have a good day!”

 

Minghao’s mornings usually follow this same pattern — getting breakfast, watching Wonwoo from a distance then proceeding to get flustered when they interact. That morning, however, goes a little bit differently.

 

It's a morning that follows a particularly bad night, in which he, in the middle of a fight, had ended up with a cut on his cheek and a bruise on his jaw (there were more bruises on his ribs, but fortunately those were easily covered). He tries his best to hide them, applying the little makeup he has to cover the bruise and putting a cartoon band-aid he found on the cut. He looks kind of silly with a band-aid on his face, but it's better than exposing the marred flesh. 

 

Of course, it's very noticeable, and when he walks into the diner and goes to the counter to order, Wonwoo sees the blue band-aid on his cheek.

 

“What happened here?” he ignores completely the fact that Minghao is going to order and reaches out to inspect the other's cheek. When he touches his face, however, the younger boy yelps and knocks over his cup of orange juice all over Wonwoo, staining his white shirt. Minghao yelps again, for good measure, and runs to his table, in hopes the single sheet of laminated paper with the menu will shield him from the embarrassment.

 

A few minutes later he hears footsteps approaching the table, a low chuckle and someone sitting in front of him.

 

“Hey.” it's Wonwoo. Of course it is. “At least it wasn't scalding coffee.”

 

Minghao puts the menu down and looks at the boy in front of him. He's changed to a black shirt, and one corner of his mouth is slightly curved up in a barely-there smile. He looks, as always, infuriatingly good, as if he hadn't been drenched in orange juice five minutes ago.

 

“I'm sorry.” the younger breathes out.

 

“It's ok. Here” Wonwoo slides a new cup of juice (that Minghao hadn't noticed before) in his direction. “Brand new, to make up for your loss.”

 

“No, I should make up to the loss of  _ your  _ shirt.” Minghao argues.

 

“My shirt will be fine. You need your daily dose of vitamin C.”

 

“But I insist. I ruined your shirt, let me buy you a new one or something.”

 

“Quit being stubborn, I said it’s fine.”

 

“No!”

 

Wonwoo laughs, a deep “haha” that makes Minghao’s heart flutter despite their current argument.

 

“This is a pointless discussion.” the older says. “Hey, what about this: I was planning to go shopping for new clothes anyway, so what about you come with me and make up for my stained shirt with fashion advice?”

 

Minghao ponders. It means spending more time with Wonwoo, and that could go really well or really badly. He looks at the older, who is stealing a sip from his orange juice — how  _ dare _ he —, eyes widening when he notices he got caught. It’s endearing. It makes Minghao realize he really wants to keep this boy, be around him, even if it’s not romantically. And this is probably his only chance of going out with Wonwoo, even if it’s just as friends/acquaintances.

 

“Fine.” he snatches back his orange juice. “Just tell me when and where.”

  
  


-•-

  
  


Wonwoo has zero fashion sense.

 

It’s the fifth shop they visit and Minghao has lost count of how many times he rolled his eyes throughout the day. The last time was because Wonwoo suggested a denim jacket to go with denim pants — a crime — and now it’s because he’s holding a plain t-shirt in a horrendous color in front of his body, as if asking “how does it look?”.

 

“Wonwoo.” Minghao sighs. “How many times have you seen that color on any other clothing article, ever?”

 

“Uh… I don’t know?”

 

“Exactly. It’s not a good color for a shirt. Do you like blue?”

 

“Yeah. But I don’t like any of the blue ones I saw here.”

 

Minghao whines, annoyed at the shop’s lack of taste. “Let’s go to another one, then. Is that ok? If you  _ really _ liked that shirt, we can still buy it, though.”

 

“Nah, I picked it out because it’s cheap.”

 

“‘Kay. Let’s go, then?”

 

Wonwoo nods, following the younger out of the establishment. They’re standing close, and Minghao is trying not to pay too much attention to it. Which is kind of difficult, because Wonwoo smells like strawberries and the moles dotting his face are more noticeable from up close.

 

They walk around a little more until Wonwoo is satisfied with his new clothes. He thanks Minghao for being the best fashion guru in the world, eliciting a laugh from the younger.

 

“I’ve never seen you smile like that.” he comments. “It’s always a small smirk or a shy smile. Never a full laugh.”

 

“You noticed that?”

 

“I’m a good observer.”

 

“That’s some Sherlock Holmes ability right there.”

 

Wonwoo chuckles. “I’m glad I made you laugh. You’re a good guy, Minghao.”

 

“Thanks. You too.” Minghao says, blushing. “I usually laugh easily when I’m with my friends, so.”

 

“So we’re friends?”

 

“O-Only if you want to…”

 

“Of course I want to! Didn’t I just say you’re a good guy?”

 

“You did, but there’s a great difference between being a-“

 

“Hey.” the older lightly hip-checked him, pointing to a kiosk. “Coffee. To celebrate our friendship.”

 

Minghao stops his rambling to look at where Wonwoo was pointing — a small coffee/ice cream kiosk, decorated in brown and earthy colors, offering a chic yet cozy vibe. The older is looking at him expectantly, so he just shrugs and starts walking towards the place.

 

They get coffees individually and, since the ice cream is a bit more expensive, they both pay for a medium-sized bowl with three flavors to share between them. Minghao gets ice cream on his nose and Wonwoo laughs at him before offering a napkin. The younger sticks out his tongue in retaliation, focusing on feigning annoyance more than on the way Wonwoo’s nose scrunches up when he laughs.

 

“Hey.” the older calls. “You never told me why you have a band-aid on your cheek.”

 

“It’s because of, uh.” Minghao searches for an excuse. “My friend’s cat. She hates me. Sank her claws on my face. Yeah. The little demon.”

 

“Oh. Don’t call her that, I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean it.”

 

“So you’re a cat advocate, huh? Even the demonic ones?”

 

“No cat is demonic. They’re all pure angels.”

 

“Yeah, so pure it slashed my cheek.”

 

Sighing internally in relief, Minghao self-consciously touches the band-aid, lightly scratching. He watches Wonwoo eat the ice cream, drawing cat whiskers in it with the syrup. Everything he does is so cute.

 

“We should do this again some other time.” the older says, gesturing with his plastic spoon.

 

“What? Buy clothes?”

 

“No, silly. Hang out.”

 

Minghao blinks. “What do you mean?”

 

“We’re friends… right? You’re cool, I’d like to spend more time with you, so, like, hang out more. If that’s okay, of course.”

 

“It is! Sorry, it’s just that… This is a very bureaucratic way of asking someone to be your friend. But yeah, we should hang out more.”

 

“Nice.” Wonwoo smiled. “For a moment I thought I was being weird.”

 

“Nah, I’m the weird one, not you.”

 

The day goes like that — light conversations, playful banter and such. They walk together to the bus stop and Wonwoo squeezes and rubs Minghao’s shoulder before leaving.

 

Minghao pretends it doesn’t make his heart ache.

 

-•-

  
  


As said before, Minghao and Nightingale are not crime-fighting partners. They just happened to help each other sometimes. They had, however, developed some kind of sync — for example, in a big fight, they would position themselves back to back, no words needed, and it was already common for Minghao to give the other a ride on his bike without the need to ask.

 

That night, they meet while Minghao is chasing after a kidnapper. Nightingale was watching the criminal’s car from an alley, and Minghao stopped his motorcycle in front of the guy, gesturing with his head for him to climb in. Now, they are both chasing the kidnapper’s car at full speed, wind blowing against Minghao’s hood, which would give out his real identity if he wasn’t a shifter — he changed a few aspects of his face before going out as The Shifter, just enough for him to be unrecognizable as Xu Minghao. 

 

Nightingale’s hands on his shoulders tighten as he takes a sharp turn. Then, they both see the car stopping in front of a warehouse, two guys walking out, one of them carrying a knocked out girl over his shoulder.

 

“Should we follow them?” Minghao asks.

 

“Of course.” Nightingale gets out of the bike. “And put your hood back on.”

 

“Oh, thanks.”

 

“No problem. Are you still insisting on relying only on your powers to fight?” the vigilante asks while they walk towards the warehouse. It didn’t really have any bite to it; just a hint of annoyance.

 

“Yeah, not all of us are weapon masters.”

 

“You flatter me.” even with a mask covering his mouth, Minghao can tell Nightingale is smirking. “I’ll walk in first. You know the drill, if something happens to me, make sure you’re safe first, then come to my aid.”

 

“This is ridiculous.”

 

“You can’t help me if you’re also injured or dead, Shif. Let’s just be careful so nothing bad happens.”

 

Those are the last words exchanged before they enter the warehouse.

 

And, contrary to their plans, bad things do happen.

 

When they walk in, they see nothing other than trash, boxes and dust. Well, that, and a chair with the - now awake - kidnapped girl tied to it by rough ropes. Minghao makes a motion to go free her, but Nightingale holds his wrist .

 

“It's clearly a trap. It's too easy.”

 

“Trap or not, we can go save her!”

 

“Honestly, how did you survive all this time without me being your impulse control?” the vigilante sighs. “Go there, and the kidnappers  _ will _ jump out of nowhere to ambush you. I'll find a place to hide. Come with me if you want.”

 

“No, thanks.” Minghao grumbles, heading to where the girl is.

 

He's halfway there when he hears the warehouse door shutting close, and he knows something is wrong. He sees the girl shaking her head vigorously, and then motioning, also with her head, to something behind him. He raises his hands ate her in confusion, and she keeps looking behind him with urgency. She rolls her eyes at him (for a kidnapped person, she seems very relaxed to be judging him like that), but then they widen in fear.

 

Minghao hears it before he sees it. The unmistakable sound of someone being stabbed, plus a loud scream echoing through the wide space of the warehouse. He turns around just in time to see Nightingale falling to the floor, a knife digging into his back, the two criminals behind him. He had clearly been ambushed while finding a place to hide, and while Minghao distracted himself with trying to save the girl — who had been trying to warn him all along.

 

Guilt strikes him like a brick to the face. If he had kept the other company, or maybe if he wasn't distracted, he'd probably be able to help, or avoid the attack. But he didn't do any of that, and now Nightingale is in trouble.

 

Nightingale’s words about protecting himself first if he gets hurt fly out of Minghao’s mind and he sees red. He’s never really been a fighter, usually opting for the “tiring out your opponent” tactic, seeing he was agile enough for that. Now, however, the first thing he does is swing out his right arm, stretching it until his fist hit one of the criminals in the face. He stumbles and turns to Minghao, ready to attack him, but again a fist hits him, this time worse — Minghao had shaped his hand to be big enough to envelop a human, and one punch managed to knock out the first guy.

 

The second kidnapper was already prepared, though, so Minghao needed a new technique other than punching with a giant hand. He stretches his left arm and loops it around the guy’s neck, pressing only enough to make him lose his breath and faint (he was extremely against killing people). In a few seconds, he’s passed out on the floor like the other.

 

That being taken care of, Minghao runs to Nightingale, who is, surprisingly, still conscious, even with his face contorted in pain. He’s lying on his stomach, sweat making his dark hair cling to his forehead as he fights to stay awake.

 

“How are you?” Minghao asks, frantically. “Are you gonna live? Please tell me you’re gonna live.”

 

“Shif, I’m not a doctor.” his voice comes out in ragged breaths. Minghao almost cries at the sight. “But it’s dark, and the guy didn’t hit any vital points seeing I’m still conscious. Also, I read somewhere that keeping the knife inside the person you stabbed stops the blood from leaking. Are you seeing any blood?”

 

“Your shirt is dark, I can’t tell.” Minghao says, voice shaking.

 

“Don’t cry, loser.” Nightingale has the strength to be snarky at him even at a moment like this. Unbelievable. “You can lift my shirt to see it, it’s not like I care about decency when I have a knife inside my body.”

 

“Stop talking, don’t tire yourself out. I need you here so I can take care of you, alright?” 

 

“Cute.” the other huffs out. “Use that on your next girlfriend, I’m sure she’ll love it.”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Night. I’ll look at your wound, stay still.”

 

Minghao lifts Nightingale’s shirt just enough to look at where the knife is. His skin is very pale and he’s thin, as expected, hipbones and spine prominently sticking out. He shakes his head, focusing on the knife instead. Indeed, there’s no blood maculating his porcelain skin, only a few stains around the blade and a huge bruise surrounding it, revealing the force used to push the weapon in.

 

“No blood.” Minghao states, softly. “You’re badly bruised, though.”

 

“No shit, Sherlock.” Nightingale grumbles. He’s having more trouble breathing, Minghao can tell. “Look, call the police and an ambulance and leave. I’ll survive if they get here on time.”

 

“But-“

 

“No. Look, don’t waste time. Call them. The police will take care of the criminals and the girl.”

 

In the midst of everything, Minghao had forgotten the girl. He turns to look at her, and she nods her head, as if saying “do what he says”. So he calls both the police and the ambulance and prays to whatever deity controls the universe for them to get there fast. He turns back to Nightingale.

 

“Let me know you’re alive as soon as you can. Please.”

 

“I will. Don’t worry, I’m hard to kill.” he lets out a broken chuckle. “You’ll be alone for the next missions, though. Make sure  _ you _ don’t get yourself killed.”

 

“I don’t care about being alone. Just take your time to heal.” Minghao pats Nightingale’s hair, careful to do it as light as possible to avoid harming the other any further.

 

“Mhmm. Now go. See you next month, maybe.”

 

“Definitely. Bye, Night.”

 

And, with that, Minghao leaves the warehouse, speeding through the streets on his motorcycle, the absence of another person on the backseat making him feel awkward. He lets a sigh of relief when he hears a faint sound of sirens coming from where he left, knowing deep down Nightingale would be okay.

 

If he sheds a tear or two on his ride back home, nobody needs to know. The strong wind does it’s job and dries them before they fall from his face.

 

-•-

 

Minghao hates last-minute cancelling. It’s one of his pet peeves — receiving a “sorry, I can’t make it, raincheck?” after he’s already assembled the perfect outfit and is ready to leave and take the bus to meet the other person. It’s even worse when he’s already inside the bus — more than a waste of time, it’s also a waste of money.

 

The fact that the “sorry, I can’t make it” is coming from Wonwoo, however, does soften his heart a little. He’s already wearing a killer outfit, two movie tickets in his wallet, when he receives a text from the older, saying “something came up”. Minghao pouts unconsciously at the lack of a raincheck proposal, but sucks it up, takes off his earrings and gives the tickets to his best friend and roommate, Mingyu, so he can go with his boyfriend, Junhui.

 

Of course he’s sad that Wonwoo cancelled their hangout, but being friends involves respecting each other’s privacy and problems, so he doesn’t ask further about the older’s reason for cancelling. He just shoots a “hope everything's ok” and turns on the TV, hoping Gravity Falls would distract him. 

  
  
  


He doesn’t see Wonwoo at the diner on the following morning, or the next one, or the one after that. He gets so worried he asks Soonyoung, the waiter and Wonwoo’s best friend, about he black-haired cashier.

 

“He’s alive, he’s just- he’s sick.” Soonyoung stutters, as if unsure. 

 

“Sick? Oh, I see. What does he have?”

 

“He has, uh… I can’t remember the name, it’s really weird and extense but he’s really sick. I went to the hospital to visit him and he’s very weak, so he has to stay there.”

 

“Wow, must be a really intense illness, then. Do you know how long he has to stay there? And if I can visit him as well?”

 

“I don’t know. I need to ask the doctors. Or you can, like, text Wonwoo. I think they let him keep his phone to contact family and friends and to feed his Plant Zombies addiction.”

 

Minghao chuckles at the thought of Wonwoo playing that game. His mind wanders about how cute he probably looks as he curses at the zombies or gets through another hard level. 

 

“I think I’ll do that, then.”

  
  
  


Minghao does text Wonwoo, a lot. The older says it’s better for him not to visit (“I look gross, Minghao, I swear, I think my skin is green”), and Minghao understands, but he still misses him and makes sure to text him everyday, even if it’s just to ask if he’s getting better.

 

At the same time, Minghao also worries about Nightingale. If having his crush-now-turned-friend in a hospital, sick and debilitated, wasn’t enough, his kind-of-superhero-friend is also (hopefully) in a hospital, recovering from a stab wound. Minghao feels weirdly lonely. Wonwoo and Nightingale were relatively new additions to his life, but they had already claimed a special position on his heart. It doesn’t feel right, being without them.

 

Of course, he has Mingyu to keep him company, to comfort him, to pet his hair and tell him they’ll be back soon and to watch Drag Race reruns with him, but all of that doesn’t fill the holes Wonwoo and Nightingale left open. Mingyu can’t fight crime with him in the dead of night, and Minghao certainly doesn’t want to go on dates and kiss his best friend, so he still feels somewhat empty, despite being grateful for Mingyu. He hugs his best friend tight, thanking him for being the greatest ever, but saying he’s still sad. Mingyu just nods, smiles sadly and kisses Minghao’s forehead, hugging back and praying at least one of the younger’s friends recovers quickly.

 

As Rupaul says “Sashay away”, he notices Minghao has fallen asleep, and carries the boy to his bed. Mingyu wishes for him to have a good night of sleep. 

 

Minghao deserves some peace of mind, after all.

  
  


-•-

 

Wonwoo comes back first. 

 

Minghao barely believes his own eyes when he receives a text from the older saying he’s getting out of the hospital tomorrow. He shoots him a multitude of exclamation points to show his excitement, and asks him if he’ll be able to hug him or he’s still too weak for that. Wonwoo says that he can do hugs, just not too tight, and Minghao promises he’ll be as light as a butterfly and as soft as cotton candy.

 

The next day, at the diner, he has to keep himself from jumping over the counter and kissing Wonwoo square on the lips. He settles for just smiling wide at him and bombarding him with questions about feeling better and such. When Minghao is waiting for his order to arrive at his table, it’s not Soonyoung who delivers it, but Wonwoo, weak smile on his face. He sits in front of the younger just like he did after the orange juice incident.

 

“I’m so happy you’re back.” Minghao says, between bites of his sandwich. “I missed you so much. It might seem weird, since we haven’t been friends for that long, but I really did. Miss you, that is.”

 

Wonwoo chuckles. “I know. I missed you, too.”

 

Minghao learns what falling in love means in that questionable diner, over his equally questionable breakfast, at the sight of Wonwoo scrunching up his nose as he laughs at something he said. And falling feels really good.

  
  
  


A few days later, Minghao sees a paper note stuck to his motorcycle. He’s about to go on one of his roams when he notices it — clinging obediently to the right handle. He snatches it, wondering about it’s contents.

 

_ Dear Shif, _

_ Sorry it took so long to tell you I’m alive. I hope you didn’t spend much on a possible funeral, since I don’t have enough money for a refund. I’m glad to see that you managed to survive without me being the voice of reason, and I’m also glad to hear that you’ve been taking good care of the city by yourself.  _

 

_ Unfortunately, as you saw back then, I was stabbed, so I’ll still be out of the picture for a while; can’t go fighting while I’m recovering, even if I’ve been dismissed from the hospital bed. You’ll know when I’m officially back, bothering you will be the first thing I’ll do. _

 

_ I’m aware my snarky and sarcastic manners may not show it, but I’m really happy to have you by my side, as a somewhat-friend. Thanks for being around, Shif. Miss you. _

 

 

  * __Night__



 

 

Minghao almost breaks down crying. Nightingale called him a somewhat-friend. That meant so, so much to him, to see he was cared about just as much as he cared about the other. Suddenly, he feels less alone — almost as if he can hear Nightingale’s airy chuckle (from wherever he was) everytime he does something too risky. 

 

He couldn't wait to reunite with his somewhat friend.

  
  
  


That takes a few weeks. Minghao’s life is back to what it used to be before he met the vigilante — breakfast at the diner, morning classes, working on his drawing commissions (and occasionally taking a nap) during the afternoon and fighting crime at night.

 

He’s currently chasing a thief by foot, hoping to catch up to him and retrieve what he had stolen (seemed like an art piece, but Minghao wasn’t sure), when a shadow joins him, sprinting by his side, following his pace. Minghao almost squeals at the sight of Nightingale, looking like he always did — all black outfit, mask, lanky build and tufts of black hair peeking from his beanie.

 

Minghao has to fight the urge to stop on his tracks and talk to the other, seeing he’s still on a mission, but he greets the other anyway.

 

“Hey, Night! Glad to see you!” he says, between ragged breaths.

 

“More crime-fighting and less chit-chatting, Shif. We can catch up after we get to him.” Minghao can  _ hear _ the smirk in Nightingale’s voice, and it’s like the planets align and everything is back to normal.

 

Fucking  _ finally _ .

 

-•-

 

Minghao’s life is finally back to what it used to be, until it isn’t.

 

He’s still going to college, still selling commissioned art to earn money, still hanging out with Wonwoo and still going on his nocturnal runs as a superhero. Something on that third item, however, starts to change.

 

Minghao is not an idiot, despite what his friends like to say. He’s aware that he and Wonwoo have been spending  _ a lot _ of time together, and their hangouts, even though they’re really just friends, look a lot like dates. I mean, going together to an amusement park is no big deal, but riding the love-train? Really? Minghao tries not to think too much of it, seeing as Wonwoo doesn’t show any signs of being romantically interested in him (as much as he wanted to), but it does look a little weird.

 

One day, when they’re just walking around the mall and sharing the same pair of earbuds, Wonwoo holds his hand after they brush together. Minghao turns red in the face and barely registers when the older asks if that’s okay. He nods, trying not to look as if he’s been longing for a moment like that for months. In return, Wonwoo smiles that close-lipped, sweet smile that sends Minghao’s heart into overdrive.

 

Holding hands in one thing. A lot of friends hold hands, right? Mingyu is Minghao’s best friend and they’ve held hands before, a lot of times, actually. So, while holding hands with Wonwoo makes his insides turn to mush, Minghao doesn’t think too much of it. A kiss on the cheek, on the other hand, sends him spiraling into another dimension.

 

It happens for a rather trivial reason. They were supposed to meet at a café they’ve visited before, but Minghao arrives earlier and sees there’s only one chocolate and hazelnut muffin left on the pastry display, and he knows they’re Wonwoo’s favorites, so he orders it before the older arrives, to save it. When Wonwoo walks into the café and seed the muffin on the table, in front of Minghao’s large latte mug, he raises an eyebrow, pointing at it.

 

“It was the only one left.” the younger explained. “Got it for you before someone else snatched it.”

 

Then, Wonwoo smiles, takes a bite of the muffin, and smiles wider.

 

“Thanks.” he says, with crumbles on his face. “You’re the best.”

 

He leans down and kisses Minghao’s cheek with chocolate stained lips, and they feel just as soft as they look. At the same time he feels his face grow warm, Minghao wishes it would last longer, and for the rest of the day his mind is a giggly mess, thinking about lips as soft as a spongecake and as sweet as chocolate.

  
  
  
  


They kiss on the lips, once, after a proper confession.

 

They’re near the beach this time — it’s a sunny day, but the air isn’t unbearably hot, so they just walk around, enjoying the nice breeze, stopping by the kiosks to have a lemonade or eat something. They walk, talking about multiple things, and at some point decide to sit on a bench and take a break, admiring the sea waves, listening to their sound.

 

Minghao feels Wonwoo laying his head on his shoulder, and suddenly it’s too much for being “just friends”. He decides,  _ fuck it _ , and brings one hand up to softly caress the older’s hair. Wonwoo hums contently, like a cat, and snuggles further into Minghao’s shoulder. They spend a few moments like this, until the younger speaks up.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Mhmm?”

 

“What’s this?”

 

“What’s what?”

 

“Don’t play dumb. What we’re doing. What is it?”

 

“I believe we’re cuddling, Minghao.” he can’t see it, but he knows Wonwoo is smirking like the little shit he is. “By the way, can you keep playing with my hair? It’s relaxing.”

 

“Shut up, I know we’re cuddling. But what does it mean?”

 

“Means you’re warm and your shoulder is a nice pillow.”

 

“I’m being serious.”

 

“Okay.” he lifts his head from Minghao’s shoulder. “Sorry. I’m actually a little nervous, so I’m trying to cover it up.”

 

“Then don’t. Why are you nervous?”

 

“It’s- It’s because…” Wonwoo chuckled at himself. “Fuck, why is this so hard to do?”

 

“Hey, I’m here.” Minghao touched the older’s hand. “Is there anything wrong?”

 

“No, I mean, I don’t know!”

 

“You’re scaring me.”

 

“ _ I like you _ !” 

 

Minghao blinks. What.

 

“I like you, as in I love spending time with you, I think you have the sweetest soul, the most beautiful eyes, and I’m in love with your smile to the point it’s almost addicting.” Wonwoo blurts out. “I went a little overboard. I’m sorry.”

 

“Did you mean it?” the younger asks, in a shy voice.

 

Wonwoo sighs. “Every word.”

 

“Then I can say I feel the same.” he looks into the other’s eyes, filled with adoration.

 

“Don’t do that only because I confessed-“

 

“I’ve been swooning over your eyes for months now.” Minghao interrupts. “You’re the reason I kept going to that diner. Your laugh is a warm breeze in a hot day, you smell like flowers and not even my best drawing could be faithful to the beauty that is your face. And, uh, believe me, I’ve tried.”

 

“Oh, my God.” Wonwoo hid his face in his hands. “I can’t believe that.”

 

“I know, right? Here I thought I would never be reciprocated.”

 

“Not only that, it’s- You say such beautiful things.” he rubs his thumb over Minghao’s hand, which is still enveloping his own. “Truly an artist.”

 

“Hey, stop, I’m not that great.”

 

“You really are. You’re so amazing you got me wrapped around your finger.”

 

“I don’t want you around my finger, I want you by my side.”

 

Wonwoo smiles, big and bright, and hugs Minghao’s midsection, placing a butterfly kiss to the exposed skin of his neck. “Smooth. Cheesy, yes, but smooth.”

 

“I try.” a pause. “Can I ask you something?”

 

“Yeah.” Wonwoo’s breath tickles his neck and collarbones, seeing as he is still hugging him.

 

“Can I kiss you?”

 

That makes the older lift his head and hold Minghao’s chin. “Thought you’d never ask.”

 

They meet halfway soft, tentative and innocently. Minghao smells like baby shampoo and Wonwoo’s lips are indeed as sweet as chocolate.

 

They start whatever they have there, by the beach, with the sky as their witness and the sea as their soundtrack.

 

-•-

 

Wonwoo and Minghao are not dating, not yet. They like each other a lot, and they’re exclusive, but they don’t have a name to their… thing. And it’s fine like that. They’re taking their sweet time, still going on dates and Minghao finds out Wonwoo really likes to kiss his nose, and it’s so endearing, they couldn’t be better.

 

Minghao, however, is still a superhero, and now that his romantic life is not non existent anymore, it’s one more piece added to the puzzle, and he’s having a slightly hard time making everything fit together peacefully. One time, he arrives at a date with a busted lip, and it gets Wonwoo worried, asking how’d it happen. He mutters a half-assed excuse about tripping on air and falling on his face, says it’s no big deal and “you just need to kiss it better”. Wonwoo rolls his eyes, but leans in anyway, leaving a light kiss on the younger’s lips, careful not to press on the hurt area. He kisses Minghao’s cheek right after and the busted lip subject lies forgotten, lost in their giggles and affections.

 

Fortunately, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be a going-out-at-night person, so Minghao doesn’t have to think about cancelling plans to have his nights off. The closest thing they had to a night date was when they were watching movies on Minghao’s apartment — they lost track of time and what had started at noon, after lunch, extended into 8pm, when Wonwoo decided to leave, because he was tired. Other than that, Minghao had his nights free, so his superhero duties were still facing no obstacles.

 

One night, Minghao and Nightingale get in a rather tricky situation. They end up going against a thief who  _ somehow _ has a fire gun — it’s nothing too disastrous, but it’s enough to keep the two from getting too close to him.

 

At some point, the guy fires the gun right at their faces. It’s hard to dodge, but Minghao manages, and drags Nightingale to the ground with him. They barely have time to breathe, because the thief fires again. This time, he misses by a hair, but a stray flame catches on Nightingale’s mask, making him yelp and rip it off his face.

 

“Oh my God, are you ok? Did it hurt you?” Minghao asks, hovering over him.

 

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I was fast enough so it didn’t burn me.” Nightingale has one hand over his right eye, the left closed. “It stings a little, though. But I’m fine.”

 

He takes his hand away from his face, and Minghao realizes it’ll be his first time seeing his friend’s face fully, no mask covering it. He looks at Nightingale, and he screams, because it’s  _ not _ his first time seeing that face. He’d recognize that sharp nose anywhere, as well as those beautiful rosy lips.

 

“What the fuck!” Minghao yells.

 

“What the fuck what? Am I that ugly?”

 

“No! What the fuck?”

 

“Why are you yelling? We’re in the middle of something, if you haven’t noticed.”

 

“Oh my G- Let’s hide somewhere.” he took the other’s wrist, still too confused.

 

“Yes, thank you, it’s what I’ve been suggesting for the past minute, but your dumb sense of heroism just-“

 

“Wonwoo. Shut up.”

 

“How do you-“

 

Minghao pulls him down to hide in an alley, behind a few trash bins. “Explain.”

 

“Explain what? If anything,  _ you _ should explain why you know my name.”

 

“Can’t you see- Oh.” it comes down to him. Of course, Wonwoo  _ can’t _ recognize him, because Minghao doesn’t look like himself right now — he shifts his face to hide his identity. “Okay. Sorry. Please, don’t look. It’s weird when I shift my face.”

 

Minghao turns, hiding, while he goes back to his original features. He doesn’t like doing it; it feels like his skin is a fabric that’s being torn to the seams, but he has to do it. When it’s finished, he turns back to Wonwoo, and it’s his time to scream.

 

“What the fuck!”

 

“Surprise, it’s me.”

 

“Is it really you?”

 

“Yep. Shif and me, same person.”

 

Wonwoo looks closely, searching for something that proves that it really is Minghao. He holds the younger’s face by the cheeks, inspecting every inch of his face. Then, he smiles.

 

“Yeah. It’s you.” he pokes one spot below Minghao’s eye, where he has a faint scar from a childhood accident. “A random person wouldn’t have been able to fake that scar. And, besides, your eyes are the same.”

 

Minghao laughs. “That was so cheesy.”

 

“It’s my charm.”

 

“Okay, but  _ how _ did we never notice we’re… You know. Crime-fighting partners?”

 

“We’re just really dense.” Wonwoo shrugs. Then, he sighs. “What are we going to do about fire-guy?”

 

“Fuck, I don’t know. Do you have any ideas?”

 

“Nah, that’s what I’m asking you. We should just call the police, let them handle it.”

 

“Yeah, maybe.” a pause. “Or… can you throw one of your pocket knives at his hand? The one holding the gun?”

 

“I’m not sure. My aim is not  _ that _ good. I can try, though.”

 

“Then let’s do it. Aim at his hand, he’ll drop the gun so I can come closer and punch him without the risk of burning myself. What do you think?”

 

“Risky. But clever.” Wonwoo pecks Minghao’s cheek. “Let’s do it.”

 

“ _ Don’t kiss me _ , idiot, we’re on duty! This is highly unprofessional and-“

 

“Shut up or I’ll kiss you for real.”

 

“Just focus on the knife-throwing.”

 

Wonwoo takes a deep breath and waits for the thief (who is forcing open a convenience store door) to move and give him an open view of his right hand. When he gets a good angle, he throws a small, dented knife, praying to the universe that it hits it’s aim.

 

The universe is feeling kind, so the knife hits perfectly the guy’s hand, making him drop his fire gun. While he struggles with the knife, Minghao packs his punch, stretching his arm forward to increase the hit. It takes another punch, a downside-up hook, to knock him out, but it’s a quick work. They alert the police as soon as they’re sure the guy is unconscious, and then go in for a tight hug. They’ve hugged before, of course, but the context in this situation makes it somehow funny, and they burst into relieved laughter.

 

“Hey.” Wonwoo says. “Wanna be my boyfriend?”

 

“ _ What _ ? Are you asking me this now?”

 

“I don’t think there’ll be a better time, honestly.”

 

Minghao chuckles. “Yes, of course I want to be your boyfriend.”

 

“Nice.” he pulls Minghao by the waist for a kiss, and it’s a little weird because they’re sweaty from the fight, wearing their superhero attires, but it’s a timeless moment, so they enjoy it, even more when Minghao loops his arms around the older’s shoulders.

 

When they pull away, Minghao furrows his brows. “Wait. So that time you spent at the hospital… You weren’t really sick, were you? It was because of that incident at the warehouse-“

 

“Yep. I needed an excuse, okay?”

 

“And Soonyoung-“

 

“He knows. And did a good job covering for me for the first time in his life, apparently.”

 

“And you didn’t let me visit you because I would see you weren’t sick! Oh my God. This is crazy.”

 

Wonwoo holds his hand. “It is. Hey, I know this café that’s open 24-hours. What about we go there and talk about the other things I’m sure we need to clear up? As our first official date as boyfriends?”

 

Minghao blushes at the use of the word “boyfriend”, and nods. “We’re still dressed like this, though. Shouldn’t we, you know. Change?”

 

“Up to you. But I don’t think it’ll make a difference.”

 

“If you say so…” the younger shrugs. “Let’s go.”

 

And they walk to the café hand in hand, fingers entwined, sweaty from the fight and wearing their superhero attires. It’s their first date as official boyfriends, and they just fought a criminal together, so nothing else really matters, because being together makes up for everything.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> THAT WAS A LONG RIDE pls let me know if you liked it!! i hope it did wonhao justice i love them to BITS AND PIECES HHHH this ship needs more appreciation
> 
> if it wasnt clear in the fic: minghao's powers are similar to kamala khan's (aka miss marvel) and elastic girl from the incredibles and uh i guess monkey d. luffy from one piece? keep them in mind. thats what haohao can do  
> his character is a rip-off from one of my ocs that never came to life so yeah i used her characteristics here
> 
> thanks for reading bubs and feedback is vv appreciated so if youd like pls talk to me c: see you next time!!


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